A Sickbay Visitation
by Lady Conqueror
Summary: Malcolm gets a visitor in sickbay. Minefield coda.


**Title:** A Sickbay Visitation

**Author:** Lady Conqueror

**Rating: **PG

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Enterprise or any of it's characters, although if they want to give me Trip, I'll take him. Not making any profit from this.

**Feedback:** That'd be nice

**Spoilers:** Minefield

**Summary:** Malcolm gets a visitor in sickbay. Minefield coda. Reed; T'Pol

**Authors Note: **Trying to get back into the writing, so this is just a fluffy, light-hearted, no deeper meaning (although if you really want to read something into it, be my guest) quick fic to try and get the muses flowing. No beta, all mistakes are my own.

Malcolm Reed stared down at the bandages covering his leg. A leg that only a few hours ago had a rather nasty looking piece of mine spiked through it. He winced at the memory of it impaling him. The pain had been unbelievable. Thankfully right now there were enough drugs in his system that the only thing he was feeling was a little woozy. _Now there was a funny word_, he thought. _Woozy. _He tried it out loud,

"Woozy." He giggled at the sound, "Woozy. Woooooo...zzzy!" _Okay, so maybe more than a little. _Not that he cared, _"_Woozy! Woozy! Woozy!"

"Am I interrupting?" The cool, clear tones of the Vulcan Science Officer brought him suddenly out of his hysterics.

"T'Pol!' he stammered."What are you doing here?" _No, wait, _his brain interrupted, _that was rude_. "I mean, of course." _And that didn't make any sense._ "You're not interrupting, that is." Perhaps he should try a different tack, "Would you like to sit down? I'm sure there's a chair around here somewhere." He cast his eyes about for, but there were no chairs within the curtain that was separating his bed from the rest of Sickbay. _This was getting ridiculous_.

"That won't be necessary. I prefer to stand," answered T'Pol, not appearing bothered at all by Malcolm's less than clear ramblings.

"Mmmm... of course," muttered Malcolm as if it was a profound statement, "must be good for the legs." _And what lovely legs they were_, he thought to himself. W_ait! Did I say that out loud? _He wasn't sure. T'Pol did seem to have an eyebrow raised. _Probably not a good sign_, _better apologise. _

"Sorry." He leaned towards her conspiratorially and whispered, "I think it's the drugs talking."

"The surgery went well?"

"Yes. Doctor Phlox says I should be back up on my feet in no time." Actually, the good Doctor had been rather vague about exactly when he'd be able to resume duty but Malcolm didn't see any reason to share that. Luckily, T'Pol seemed to take his statement at face value,

"I'm sure you will."

They lapsed into silence. He wasn't sure if it was still the drugs or who he was with; after all he didn't normally speak informally with the Sub Commander; but, for Malcolm the silence was starting to feel very awkward. He searched his brain for something, anything, to say.

"What are you doing here again?" He knew the question wasn't any less rude this time around but he figured he could always blame the drugs again if she took offence.

"Commander Tucker asked me to check in on you. He would like you to know that he would be here himself, but with the current situation he is needed in Engineering."

Talk of the current situation sobered Malcolm up a little, "Of course. What's been happening?"

"We left the Minefield as soon as you and Captain Archer were brought aboard. So far it doesn't appear that we are being pursued, but the Captain wants to be sure before we drop out of Warp."

Malcolm nodded in agreement with the Captains, for once, sensible decision. "Makes sense, especially since these...." He paused trying to remember the name of the aliens.

"Romulans," T'Pol filled in helpfully.

"Yes, Romulans. Especially since they can appear out of nowhere."

"They seemed more intent on us leaving than in destroying us."

"Still, better safe than sorry."

"Indeed."

"Makes you wonder what was so important about that planet that it needed that sort of security." Malcolm mused.

"We'll probably never know." Malcolm nodded at T'Pol's statement. She was probably right. Still, Malcolm was annoyed. He didn't like mysteries at the best of times, when they involved getting speared through the leg and nearly blown up, they were downright irritating.

Phlox appeared around the edge of the curtain. Noticing T'Pol standing next to the bed, he smiled widely. "Ahh. Mr Reed, I didn't realise you had visitors. I'll come back later and we can start your treatment." He disappeared just as quickly as he had come. T'Pol turned slightly,

"I should go"

Malcolm gulped, "Actually, would you mind staying a little longer." As T'Pol's eyebrow climbed towards her hairline, Malcolm started to squirm under her gaze. If he hadn't been in his current state he probably never would admit this; _No make that definitely wouldn't; _but...

"When he was talking about my treatment earlier, he mentioned something about Regullan bloodworms," he shuddered, "sounds rather....." he trailed off. Creepy! Ghastly! None of those adjectives sounded quite right as to how he'd imagine feeling about worms crawling around inside him. Instead of laughing at him, _well she wasn't exactly likely to do that...whatever the Vulcan equivalent was_, T'Pol appeared curious,

"I have noticed that most of the crew appear apprehensive about Dr Phlox's use of animals? I do not understand this hesitancy?"

Malcolm frowned, unsure of what to say, "I guess I haven't really thought about it. It's probably because of the leeches."

"Leeches?"

"Small earth slug..." Malcolm wasn't really sure how to describe them, "things. They latch onto you and suck your blood. Back in the medieval days doctors used to use them to treat just about everything."

"Was it successful?"

"Not that I ever heard of."

"So you associate the use of animals as a form of primitive medicine." T'Pol concluded.

"I suppose so. Plus," Malcolm grimaced, "they're always so slimy"

T'Pol turned and Malcolm's hopes shrank. Of course the Sub commander would never succumb to such an illogical and emotional argument. _What had he been thinking?_ He cleared his throat, "Yes, well. It was nice of you to visit. Please tell Trip, um, the Commander, that I'm fine."

T'Pol stopped and looked back at him,

"Actually, I thought that if I am to stay for a while longer, I may need a chair after all."

Malcolm couldn't stop the grin forming on his face.

THE END.


End file.
